Chapter XX: Letter IX

From MONSIEUR DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULT’S,
Friday evening, April 24, 1671.

Here, then, I make up my packet. I had intended to tell you that the king arrived yesterday evening at Chantilly: he hunted a stag by moonlight; the lamps did wonders; the fire-works were a little eclipsed by the brightness of our serene friend, the moon; but the evening, the supper, and the entertainment, went off admirably well. The weather we had yesterday gave us hopes of an end worthy of so fine a beginning. But what do you think I learned when I came here? I am not yet recovered, and hardly know what I write. Vatel, the great Vatel, late maître-d’hôtel to M. Fouquet, and in that capacity with the prince, a man so eminently distinguished for taste, and whose abilities were equal to the government of a state--this man, whom I knew so well, finding, at eight o’clock this morning, that the fish he had sent for did not come at the time he expected it, and unable to bear the disgrace that he thought would inevitably attach to him, ran himself through with his own sword. Guess what confusion so shocking an accident must have occasioned. Think, too, that perhaps the fish might come in just as he was expiring. I know no more of the affair at present, and I suppose you think this enough. I make no doubt the consternation was general; it must be very disagreeable to have so fatal an event break in upon an entertainment that cost fifty thousand crowns.

Monsieur De Menars is to be married to Mademoiselle De la Grange-Neuville; but I do not know how I can have the heart to speak to you about any thing but Vatel.